


Player's Diary: Tara's Version

by Avianahelena



Series: Panic Room Player Diaries [1]
Category: Panic Room: House of Secrets
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-22 19:37:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 75
Words: 21,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2519402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avianahelena/pseuds/Avianahelena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the Panic Room player's diary the way I feel I'd write it, complete with mood swings, copious swearing, and perverted thoughts. May or may not contain spoilerish content, as I've been very vague on some points and much more chatty on others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1, July 16th

**Author's Note:**

> I've elected to post this as one chapter per diary entry, which has come up to seventy-five chapters so far. Really not sure how else to do it though, so...suggestions welcome.  
> Comments and/or critique also welcome. I love hearing people's thoughts.
> 
> Oh, I should probably mention: POV character (more or less me, but why self-insert if I can't self-modify on occasion?) is a female in her mid-twenties.

Wow. Wow. Okay, wow.  
First off, this isn't really day one. This is day two or three, or something, depending on how long I was unconscious. It took me a bit to find pen and paper and decide to just write this lunacy down.  
Wait till you get a load of what 'this lunacy' is. I've been abducted by a crazy person who thinks he's the guy from Saw. I woke up in this creepy old house with this guy talking to me out of speakers in the walls, going on and on about people not appreciating freedom and how I'd have to earn mine back.  
And how does one earn back one's freedom from a crazy person who talks out of the walls? Why, by passing tests in booby-trapped rooms and solving puzzles, of course! First thing, he sends me down to the kitchen and asks me to spill some of my blood to get in, as some sort of payment for the privilege of risking life and limb for a handful of feathers, I guess.  
...Saw was a terrible fucking movie.

Anyway. Kitchen was easy, which might be why I lost my head so badly in the next room. Panicked and tried to bust out the window, failed laughably hard. Turns out that window had a lot more than bulletproofing going for it. Wound up staggering out of there half-dead and ran into Jenny.  
Real nice girl, Jenny. She fixed me up and fed me, told me a little about the place, and mentioned a doctor (THANK GOD) and some other dude called Jack. Might have been more to that, but I was focused on the doctor part.  
She did get around to mentioning that she was in a car accident when she was young and has partial amnesia, so she's hunting up curios here and there that jog her memory. I cannot imagine how terrifying it must be to have stuff in this house of all places jogging your memory. Ugh.  
But I did meet the doctor. Dr. Jim Fairwood. He was arguing with the aforementioned "Jack" who apparently doesn't like him too well. Not sure why. It's rude to pry, and besides, I was too busy admiring the doc's hair. I get that this is probably not the appropriate situation to be drooling over men, but come on, the man is fine.  
The brother weren't bad, either.


	2. Day 2, July 17th

(or, well, the actual day I've started writing)  
The whole thing with Jenny is kind of weird. The Puppeteer asked me to deliver a note to her and said something about "helping her to remember freedom" or some tripe like that. But that doesn't make sense; Jenny hasn't been in the house since she was thirteen. At least I don't think she has. That would be over a decade in here and I don't want to think about that.  
Anyway, I'm still tracking down figurines for her, and it seems to be jogging her memory a little bit. We'll see how it goes.  
Mostly scavenging today, with the MAGICAL discovery of this journal and a pen, but nothing of any actual use like first-aid supplies or a stick of dynamite to solve that window problem with. Even Jim mentioned he's always running low on supplies and having to improvise, which doesn't exactly inspire confidence there, Doc.


	3. Day 4, July 19th

Officially met the doc's little brother. He's got a mountain of anger going on, which I guess I can understand what with the being trapped in a horror movie and all. I wonder how the Puppeteer managed to snag brothers, and why they're so at-odds?  
Puppeteer refers to Jack as a "rat" and seems to think Jack's constant attempts to rebel against the rules here are amusing.  
God, I hate a condescending lunatic. He's not original and he's not clever, but he still thinks he's superior and has a right to mock us for reacting to a situation HE put us in.  
Yeah, I can definitely see where Jack's coming from. Doc's still cuter.  
Speaking of Doc, he's actually a surgeon, but he doesn't get medical supplies from Puppeteer, so he's asking me to track down various things around the house to use. A lot of it's kind of cringeworthy--like seriously, how do you use a hammer for surgery? Yikes!  
Jack's little errands are at least less disturbing. He's got me hunting up needles and thread so he doesn't have to ask Jenny to sew up his shirt. Kind of cute/infuriating, Jack. He won't ask for help--except, apparently, from strangers. Won't ask Jenny to sew up a shirt and won't ask his brother to sew up his CONSTANT GAPING WOUNDS. Jackass. I'll just have to manhandle him into accepting first aid, I guess. He's cute and Doc would be put out if he died. Wouldn't want Doc to be sad--how would I ogle him then? Then again, if he's the type to seek comfort in carnal distractions....  
Oh, leave me alone. It's escapism, all right?


	4. Day 5, July 20th

I am so weirded out right now. I found a painter figurine for Jenny--the note I delivered from P. had a riddle in it about a painter--and it looks like it's been glued together like Jenny says her old one was. Either P. took it from her house or she's actually been in THIS house before--it's really weird.  
I'm finding more and more puzzle pieces, in between doing little errands to help out the three Js. It's keeping me pretty busy, and I'm even getting better about not triggering the traps. That might be another reason I'm freaked. How the hell do you settle into a situation like this THAT easily?

(cont.):  
So Doc's asked me to try to talk sense into Jack since Jack won't listen to him. Not sure what he thinks I'm going to say. I don't think arguing with P. is going to help anything, but I honestly can't blame the kid.  
Well, I do blame him a little. Seriously, he could try not to get hurt so much.


	5. Day 6, July 21st

Gained access to the front hall today. Holy shit, those front doors...there are so many locks, and I have to earn the keys to each before being allowed to go free. That's going to take so fucking long. My hands are never going to be the same.


	6. Day 11, July 26th

Sorry, got depressed there for a while. There are ten locks on the door, but only nine rooms P. wants me to "solve" to find keys. The tenth key can supposedly be found after I have the other nine. Somehow I don't believe him.  
Jack was up to his rebellious shit again, pacing around yelling "freedom!" over and over again like that would help. He started another argument with doc, too. Doc is sort of starting to show his crazy-- he said this whole thing isn't about "external circumstances keeping us from leaving" but "inner shackles we should get rid of," which sounds way too much like agreeing with P. for my comfort. Why do the pretty ones always have to be fucking psychos?  
Either way, Jenny showed up just in time with a baseball, of all things. Suggested a friendly game, which of course Jack was having none of because competitive, much? He'd rather find baseball bats and smash the cameras. I hope he doesn't go through with that; it could go bad for all of us.  
Jack's sarcasm backfired on him in a big way then. He was mocking Jenny, asking if we were going to play baseball with whatever we could find and whoever wanted to play, and of COURSE P. thinks this is a SPLENDID idea. Crazy bastard spoke up laying his money on doc's team, the "Witchbridge Crows."  
Some weird shit about Jim, though. P. said he's the leader of the "Followers" who live here--say wha? Less disturbingly, he's as competitive as his brother. Jack made a disparaging comment or two about the doc's ability to win a baseball game and Jim was like challenge. Fucking. Accepted.  
So now game's on. We have three days to prepare. If Jack's team wins, P. shuts down his cameras in the basement for a week--evidently Jack and his buds plot down there--and Jim keeps his "Followers" out too. If Jack loses, he's to stfu for a week and pass his tests without plots or diversions. P. calls it a "gentlemen's agreement."  
...


	7. Day 12, July 27th

Finally assembled all the figurines, and got a shocking reveal. Jenny says there was a family living in this house, and she knew them--but after the accident she never heard anything about them again. Like they just vanished. Jenny's determined to stay in this house till she remembers everything, which I imagine suits P. just fine.  
Side note: according to Jenny, the house is in Witchbridge, a small town in the English province. I've never heard of it, but I guess it doesn't matter.  
...


	8. Day 13, July 28th

Two new developments: Jack has evidently been sulking so much he's neglected to eat, and there's a rat in the kitchen. I'm not sure why either of these things are so shocking, since Jack's always ignoring his health and there are rats in every room of the house, but Jenny's concerned and I like her so I guess I should help. Rat-trapping time!

Later: Ha! Three birds, one stone. Jim caught me on the way to the basement and asked me to grab some ether. Some woman named Alice has appendicitis and doc can't even go to the basement to get ether so he can operate on her--his relationship with Jack is THAT BAD. So I went, grabbed the ether, growled at Jack for not eating, and got his advice on rat traps. We're going to try setting out an Egyptian vase for the rat to fall into--Jack says the other rats fall into jars and stuff all the time and can't climb back out.  
Jenny has explained the "Underground": Jack's "team of rowdy teenagers" that he spends a lot of time with. They're very secretive, according to her.

...


	9. Day 14, July 29th

Spent some time in the basement today helping Jack and listening to him mutter about the "Underground," which sounds more like a resistance. Or what passes for one, with such reckless leadership. Jim nearly fell down the stairs bringing some firewood to fashion into bats. Turns out he and Jack both did sports in university, and also they're both pretty good with their hands...yes, I would have TOTALLY GONE THERE if those two wouldn't explode from embarrassment or rage or whatever if I flirted with them both. Anyway, it was kind of sad to see them cooperating, since when they're (almost) getting along you get the impression they used to be a pretty good team. I wonder what happened.  
Rat-catching not going well; the rat just climbed out of the Egyptian vase because it's not smooth inside. Trying a Greek vase next, if Jenny or I can find it. She's also brought up butterflies, in connection with a young boy Jack reminds her of--stubborn and resistant to mothering. Since I'm searching the house daily for this or that, I suppose it couldn't hurt to keep an eye out for butterflies too...though all the little side quests do make me wonder. Is P. leaving all this stuff lying around purely as a function of his bizarre fascination with Jenny? (Yes, P, I've noticed.) Or is it a way to distract us from our real goal?  
...


	10. Day 15, July 30th

Greek vase didn't work. Sides not steep enough. Trying a French vase with higher sides--this rat is a regular Houdini, and it's starting to make me angry, but Jenny's still having fun, so I guess...besides, she has a little anecdote tied to each vase, about where it came from and who it was for. Same with the butterflies--we found one that she says wasn't caught, but bought as a gift, and the recipient (the little boy) wasn't too pleased with it because he hadn't caught it himself. Yeah, this kid reminds me of someone, all right! Sometimes I swear that if P. threw open the front door and ordered Jack to walk out, he'd refuse out of stubborn spite.  
...I'd take it, if anyone's wondering. Spite's nice and all, but I like not bleeding better.  
They had me umpire in the 'big game' today, which was about as exciting as you'd expect I guess. Went on FOREVER with neither side giving an inch. The boys finally called it a draw and I swear a couple people cried in sheer relief.  
...


	11. Day 16, July 31st

Rat trap unsuccessful AGAIN! We're trying an Indian vase now but this is the last straw for me. If we can't catch it this time, I GIVE UP!  
Since rat traps can't keep me busy all day, Jack's got me hunting up watch parts. He's proud of his watch--says his father gave it to him and Jim was jealous (was he really), but more interestingly, that none of the other clocks or watches in the house have the correct time. Some sort of mind game of P.'s?  
...


	12. Day 17, Aug. 1st

SUCCESS! Jenny smeared the Indian vase with oil and we got our rat at last. She's a cutie, too--white, but with black eyes instead of pink. Jenny's decided to keep it, so we're building a 'house' for it out of--you guessed it! Vases! She has named it Nan, after a woman she knew who loved rats.  
Jack finally realized the only thing wrong with his watch is a dead battery--honestly, the kid's supposed to be SMART--and sent me to get one from Jim. It's ridiculous how they can't get along for five bloody minutes. It's clear they care about each other, but put them in the same room and within minutes Jack's shouting and Jim has completely shut down. Maybe if we slapped a gag on the younger one.....  
I took that places it shouldn't go, I'm sorry. I'd say it's good to be trapped in a house without internet, but I think there's no untwisting my mind by now no matter how long it's away from corrosive influences.  
...


	13. Day 18, Aug. 2nd

I finally found all the pieces of the "kitchen" puzzle--a literal jigsaw puzzle P. wants me to solve to "earn" my freedom--and it turns out it's sort of a map. It shows the location of a cache under a floor tile in front of the fridge. To open it, you pull the chandelier and press one of the picture frames.  
Of course, it can't be so easy. To get into the kitchen to do this, P. made me pass a test DOUBLE TIME and IN THE DARK. Fucker. The key I found is interesting, though. A copper double-sided skeleton key, very quaint. I suspect I'll have to hide it well, though. I'm starting to think others in the house are watching and not above theft.  
As a freaky side note, Jim thinks he's seen some sort of "shadow" in the front hall. I went with him this evening to check it out and sure enough, I saw it too. So I really am trapped in a horror film. Doc thinks it's mist or a hologram, but we know better, don't we?  
...


	14. Day 19, Aug. 3rd

I've caught Jim and some of his companions restocking the kitchen at night. Jenny says it's just like him to help us and P. at the same time--and she mentioned Jim's group, the "Followers," again. Interesting, I guess. Not as interesting as Nan the rat, or ghosts in the front hall, but still.

On a different note, the very dear brothers whom I love and respect deeply and shall never, ever kill, managed to create mayhem and chaos in the house again. A friend woke me up very early, very VERY early...TOO EARLY to tell me they were trying to kill each other again and APPARENTLY I'm the only person who can handle this? Either way, we followed a trail of wreckage to the basement where lo and behold the two I'm definitely not going to strangle and/or maim were dueling with sticks.  
It's tradition. Turns out Jenny's way into Celtic mythology and likes to celebrate the pagan festivals, and thought it'd be a good idea somehow to tell Jack and Jim that you're supposed to fight.  
Jim won, by the way. By cheating. I approve.  
...


	15. Day 20, Aug. 4th

Had the weirdest goddamn day. Even for here.  
First, Jenny came rushing into my room in a panic saying Jack's unconscious in the kitchen, hurt badly, and she can't find Jim.  
That struck me as pretty odd since Jim's usually in the living room when I look for him. Unfortunately, I couldn't check there right away because I've been working on the living room puzzle all this time and finished it today. (Cache is behind the portrait that hangs above the piano--to open, set mantelpiece clock to 12:10 and turn the wall sconce next to the portrait clockwise until it clicks.) I was sure P. would insist on my running another stupid double-time test the next time I entered that room.  
After seeing Jack, though, there was nothing for it. I went in and decided I'd just have to trust the doc with whatever I found--hell, he's been here longer and probably knows where the cache is anyway.  
But when I got there he was pretty agitated; slammed the door behind me and started in on a "test" of his own. I'm not sure he even noticed the timer was running faster than normal, because I was helping him--the "tests" are usually pretty similar after all.  
After, I told him Jack was hurt and he went rushing out, leaving me free to open the cache. I found key number two, as expected...and a gun.  
P. told me to "think of how to put it to use." I think this is the first time in this house I've actually had chills go up my spine.  
Cute little thing, this pistol. A tiny six-shooter like the gamblers used to hide up their sleeves. No ammo for it, but it's not like you could hit anything with this dinky gun even if it was loaded. Notoriously bad accuracy on these things. Or at least, that's how I'm downplaying it. I don't like P. giving me weapons. He obviously knows I get along with both Fairwood brothers and I weirdly suspect that's a first. I don't have proof that's what this is about, but...well, it's a bad feeling and I always trust my gut.  
Naturally, while I'm reeling from that I go to the kitchen to check on Jack and find that P. thinks it's funny to set a test while the doc is trying to treat his brother. I had to run a second test in the bloody dark while Jenny held the flashlight so doc could work. She'd already bandaged the idiot up some so he wouldn't bleed out, but it mostly came undone when they tried to get him on the table. Lucky for everyone, then, that the moron was unconscious because a weight fell on his head and not because he'd exsanguinated.  
Fool. Doc took the opportunity to stitch up most of his wounds because he won't seek medical attention while awake. Doesn't he care that he's scaring everybody? Jenny was upset, and Jim was white as a sheet--after Jack came around and hobbled off to his basement (without thanking any of us, I might add) the doc explained that Jack might not have pulled through if he'd lost any more blood. The head injury was the least of it.  
So now I'm holed up in my room with a good bottle of liquor I managed to snag before Bill the Elusive Drunk could get it (and let me tell you what a feat THAT was), examining my keys. The second one is iron, single-sided with a pretty three-eyelet design at the grip. It's larger than the first one, not by a lot. I guess this will be an eclectic collection, all told. I wonder who else has copies of these keys...if anyone has ever gone free or ever will.  
...


	16. Day 21, Aug. 5th

The plot thickens. After yesterday, I hoped for some quiet time, but this morning I found a note slipped under my door: "Thank you for your kindness. Come to the living room when the shadows appear in it. I've got an offer that could be interesting for you. J."  
And another was slipped in just above the latch: "Come to the basement tonight, we need to talk. J."  
Pretty clear who they're from. At least the meetings aren't until this evening, so I can rest in my room all day as planned. I'd also say "lucky the meetings don't clash" but I have to wonder if that was a coincidence. Each brother knows how the other works, after all, and neither has said anything so far about me working with both of them, even though it's pretty clear they both know. I haven't exactly made a secret of it after all.

Later: As predicted, Jim met me in the living room at dusk. If I remember right, he said "Thank you for coming. Jack certainly won't appreciate your help, so I thank you for both of us. The fact is that we have very different opinions on the owner of this house. ...I am the head of the Followers. We follow the way of the Puppeteer. We see the value of his lesson and we want to understand how he reached his conception of freedom."  
I didn't point out that P.'s "conception of freedom" HAS no value, since he basically ripped this whole thing off from a crappy horror movie franchise.  
Bizarrely, Jack made a lot more sense when I met him later in the basement. "Just so you know: Jim is a good doctor, but our organizations are at odds. So don't bring him here, even if things are looking grim. I'll survive; it won't be the first time. ...I represent the Underground. We fight against the Puppeteer and refuse to follow that bloody maniac's 'rules.' If you want to join our ranks and get out of here, you can come to us. I'll find a job for you."  
...


	17. Day 22, Aug. 6th

She has taught the rat to fetch.  
She has named the rat Nan, and taught it to FETCH.  
I love her. She is barking mad, and I love her.  
...


	18. Day 23, Aug. 7th

Well, they've both assigned me some sort of test mission. Jack sent me to the living room to hunt up some novelty lighter Jim had squirreled away, while Jim sent me to the basement to remove a piece of a photograph he hopes will tell him something about the house's previous owners. They're both ridiculous, in my opinion. This is the same sort of stuff I was doing for them BEFORE, only now they're trying to draw me into their factions with it.  
P. is just as bad--opened up a new room, the "children's room" and was hinting about it. He said "everything begins there, and you'll find the answers to many questions." What I actually found was a couple of old diary pages that look like they fell under the dresser and were forgotten. And he's getting to me now, because I have no idea whether to believe that, or to think that he planted them there somehow. I'm getting paranoid.  
...


	19. Day 25, Aug. 9th

I'm more or less humoring them. Jenny's the easiest to appease; she doesn't care about factions or who else I help. She just wants to remember. She's already told me bits and pieces about the family: an older boy who played the violin. A younger one who caught butterflies. One family member traveled a lot--probably the mother. This afternoon, we stumbled across a box of old films and Jenny remembered that one of the people who lived here was an actress. The VCR is broken, and Jack can't be bothered to fix it right now, but we went through the tapes anyway, looking for a name. We found one--Kate Byron--but Jenny says the surname isn't right. Probably a show name. At any rate, the newest movie we found was made a year before Jenny's accident. Nothing newer. Poor Jenny is really trying not to think the worst, I can tell, but the people she knew...they've disappeared. No evidence of them after a certain date. Nothing.  
Jim wants to know more about the history of the house, and asked me to find pieces of an old photograph that shows the family that used to live here. I already had most of them, since I've picked up the habit of squirreling away most everything I find. Too bad I didn't think to show the pieces to Jenny before Jim took them; they might have helped her remember something. The woman in the photo looks like the actress on the video covers, and the younger boy is blond like Jenny's mentioned. There's even an old woman Jim thinks is the nanny--nanny, like Nan, as in Nan the rat.  
I didn't tell Jim about the keys, or the treasure from the cache. Or even about the scraps of diaries I've been finding in various nooks of the children's room. They're interesting, but Jim hasn't given me any reason to hand them over...and besides, they could be fake. Another head game.  
Jack's looking for chess pieces, because the elusive Bill likes chess and will trade information for a full set. Why Jack can't just carve pieces, I do not know.  
...


	20. Day 26, Aug. 10th

Jenny told me more about the brothers. It's upsetting, really. Jim came in with Jenny, or at least around the same time, and started searching the house and talking to the cameras. Then he sent for his brother to help him. But Jack thinks Jim lured him into a trap, and now they don't speak.  
I have sympathy for them. Really, I do. But why should I join one against the other? No.  
...


	21. Day 30, Aug. 14th

Jack and Jim are still subtly pressing me to make up my mind. I sought out Jenny to vent about it. She asked me about the factions, as she actually knows little about the groups. She says that actually, Alice created the Followers and cooked up the tripe about P. being a great teacher and master. Jim just got them organized as a group that helps each other out. The Underground, on the other hand, really was started by Jack and not by some shadow puppet I've never met.  
She's still working her way through the mystery of the films, though it gives her terrible headaches when she tries too hard to remember. Her quest for memory is slow and arduous, but it's distracting, and it's always nice to see her so happy and excited when we find something that slots another piece in place. Besides, it keeps me distracted from the VERY slow progress of my latest project: the basement puzzle. I'm almost afraid to find that cache, after the awful surprise in the last one, but....well...freedom.  
...


	22. Day 31, Aug. 15th

So. A grim anniversary...and a seriously obnoxious fucking commemoration. Jack came across me sifting through junk in the basement for puzzle pieces, and asked me if I've gotten the whole living room puzzle put together. Since he normally shows NO INTEREST WHATSOEVER in what I do or why I do it (which is vexing, since you know, he's asking me to join his faction when he has no idea what kinds of skills I can bring to the table...we're not even sleeping together, more's the pity, so he has no excuse for bringing me in blind like that). Uh. Since he usually doesn't notice, I got suspicious. Turns out Bill told him about the puzzle showing the way to the cache, and about there being something interesting in there. He doesn't want to risk any of his Undergrounders trying to toss the whole room looking for it, so he decided to suddenly clue in to my efforts to find the caches by finishing the puzzles a la crazyman's stupid rules.  
No way was I going to tell him I'd already opened the cache. Undoubtedly Jim has heard rumors and will be accosting me soon, and I need to decide how to play this.  
...


	23. Day 32, Aug. 16th

Sure enough, Doc caught me at breakfast this morning and asked me about the puzzle and cache. He says there were rumours and Jack's getting anxious, plus evidently Undergrounders are being tested more frequently. But it's piqued Jim's interest and he wants me to help him find the cache. I kind of slunk off, not really wanting to deal with it, but I might tell them both where the fucking cache is and sort of leave out the part where I already found the damn thing. Just hope P. stays out of it; if either one of them finds out I lied, I don't think it'll do me much good to have tried to stay out of the feud. They don't seem like the forgiving type. And man, HOW WE GONNA BANG if they're both mad at me?  
Ok, so my priorities are wrong. Sue me. They're hot.  
...


	24. Day 33, Aug. 17th

I avoided places the Fairwoods might be for about half the day, then caved and went to tell Jack where the cache is. OF COURSE he responded by giving me an ultimatum. Asked me to open the cache and decide whether to give its contents to him or to Jim, and said that "between two stools, a person falls to the ground" and that if I choose Jim, the way to Jack and his Undergrounders is closed.  
I may have responded somewhat violently. I also may have pulled a stack of boxes o'junk over onto his head and stormed out. What absolutely DID NOT happen was me glancing back and catching him watching me leave with a decidedly smitten look on his face. Nope. Because there is just no fucking way I've spent a month flirting with this dude to have him notice me only when I VIOLENTLY ASSAULT HIM.  
Jesus, thought I, I hope the doc's not this twisted (except I secretly hoped he was because how hot would it be to be able to basically bully them both into bed. Possibly at the same time. No I will never let go of that fantasy.) and off I stormed in a snit to tell the doc about the cache too. So I tell him, and he listens, and he says he guessed the location but couldn't check--he cited the rules but I think he just couldn't figure out the triggers--and then SURPRISE (not) gives me an ultimatum. He said he wanted me to open the cache because I guess he thought that'd be the best way to give Jack an equal shot at the booty (shut up, we know he has an equal shot at MY booty) but that if I chose to give it to Jack, "our paths will diverge forever." Melodramatic fucker. Why is it always the pretty ones?  
Anyway, he says that there's no room for neutrality in this house and I fucked off pretty fast after that. If anyone says I screamed in the good doctor's face, told him he's just like his brother, broke a bunch of shit, and stormed out, that person is a filthy whore liar and I deny it and WHY DID HE HAVE TO BE SMILING AS I LEFT WHAT IS WRONG WITH THESE GUYS do you think they'd do a threesome if I got them like REALLY DRUNK.  
Time for some girl time with Jenny. I bet SHE can tell me.  
...


	25. Day 36, Aug. 20th

Avoiding the Fairwoods. Well, not actually avoiding them. More like failing to deliberately cross paths with Jim, which basically adds up to avoiding him since our schedules are so different, and pointedly ignoring Jack while I comb through his basement. Those puzzle pieces are more elusive than...I don't know, insert colorful idiom here. I'm tired and frustrated, give me a break.  
Jenny once again provided a distraction, this time by mentioning that she's remembered an old wooden toy plane she used to play with. We hunted it down in the children's room and found some initials scratched into it: "fr gmV & gfB." No idea what that means, but it's a mystery to contemplate while I'm trying not to think about other things. There are more toys to find, too, which is nice. Deadly important missions like this are my specialty.  
...


	26. Day 39, Aug. 23rd

Took for-fucking-ever, but I did finally find the right pieces to finish that stupid puzzle. The cache in the basement is in the wall behind the shelves adjacent to the furnace. To open it, pull down the lamp right in front of the shelves, turn the valve on the furnace, and move a certain jar to the scales. There are a couple of pressure plates; I hate giving Mr. FailJigsaw any credit, but these cache opening mechanisms are seriously clever. It takes real mechanical talent to pull off something this INCREDIBLY CLICHE.  
Now to catch Jack out of the basement so I can open the cache.  
As for the living room cache and the Brothers Dramatique? Fuck them. Yeah, in the not-fun way. Because how do they both know exactly what stupid little errand I'm running for the other one, but NOT that I already found the living room cache days before they ever heard anything about something interesting being in there? Hell, shouldn't JACK have figured out I was done with the living room? I've been practically LIVING in his basement looking for pieces of that puzzle. Living room is old news, Jack. Old. Fucking. News. Like your "Underground."  
...I should put the gun in the basement cache. That would fuck 'em up.

Later: the Puppeteer's trying to throw me again. He opened up the library, claiming it was a reward for finding the basement cache. Said the library held a lot of secrets. I found some seriously disturbing diary pages in there right off the bat, so maybe he's right--or, again, maybe he's screwing with me.  
Let me explain what I mean: The pages in the children's room are just childish prattling--some kid called John telling about his family, his house, and his new friend Jenny. Interesting connections. Maybe something to show Jenny once I've gathered enough to see if the similarities hold up.  
But the pages from the library...those look sort of like the Puppeteer's handwriting. They've got his voice, too. Scoffing about the puppets in this house, mocking us, scorning the Fairwoods for their feud.  
And does he have to make so much sense? Because I'm with him about the Fairwoods. It's stupid--they could die in here, but they argue like they don't care if one of them is left with regrets. And here I am, agreeing with a lunatic.  
...


	27. Day 40, Aug. 24th

Thing is, I don't want to choose a side. I don't. I like doing my own thing and getting along with both hot brothers and not having anybody after my ass. So I am not pleased. I am doubleplus unpleased, Mr. Syme.  
So what I did today was give each brother the most deadpan expression I could manage and told him I'd checked the cache but didn't find anything, in this tone that kind of suggests that I totally found the shit out of something but they were shit out of luck if they wanted to know what it was.  
Predictably, they both proceeded to do the exact wrong thing. Jack tried the stern talking-to-addled-womenfolks voice, while Jim told me I was being childish.  
If we were having sex, this would be the part where they're not getting any until they appease me. As it is...well, if they want that pistol, they'd better be prepared to give me my threesome.  
BOYS, am I right?  
...


	28. Day 42, Aug. 26th

42\. The answer to life and the universe. I don't particularly care for the answers I'm getting.  
I've been sort of hiding in the library. I think the Fairwoods both have access to the library, but I don't think they know *I* do, so that's where I've holed up. Searching through bookshelves for anything that might possibly be useful, but all I'm turning up is diary pages--a lot more quickly in here than in the children's room; I think someone had moved the first pages I found into the room and dropped them. Let me tell you though, things are looking sort of trippy in the world of the scavenged diary pages. I mean, you have the expected stuff, like the Puppeteer has definitely been to prison before--as though we couldn't guess that, with his freedom obsession and all. But then there's this niggling suspicion about John and P.  
And are we really Act II?  
May not sleep tonight. I'm hooked now, and I have to find the rest.  
...


	29. Day 43, Aug. 27th

Found the rest of the diary pages. I was right, and now I have no idea what to think. It could all be a trick. P. likes his mindfucks.  
If it isn't a trick, though, it's a bona fide tragedy. Which is half my problem, I think. I don't want to feel sorry for him. He's killed so many people. I might be next.  
Maybe I should just take it with a grain of salt. Okay, so it could be true. Or he could be screwing with me. Either way, my objective hasn't changed. I'll set these pages aside and go back to my search for the key caches. Let Jim worry about psychoanalyzing the Puppeteer and finding out the truth.  
...


	30. Day 45, Aug. 29th

Both brothers are all about getting that cache find out of me...but neither one has resorted to APOLOGIZING yet. And I don't think stripping has even occurred to either of them. I would have thought Jack at least would think to try seduction; he's good at thinking outside the box. But no. Here I am, armed, angry and woefully unlaid.  
So I'm pouting in my room.  
Except now someone's knocking on the door, hang on--probably it's Jenny but if I can get the Doc where I want him

Well THAT was almost awkward. Guess who it was? He came to "talk" to me and no, sadly, those quotation marks do not denote innuendo. Yes, I'm disappointed too. So he's asking me why I'm avoiding him and what exactly has me so pissed off that I refuse to discuss the cache when up till now I've basically done everything he's asked of me, when there's another knock. This time I didn't think it was Jenny; these brothers have some sort of freaky telepathy thing going, I think, where they seek me out for similar shit on the same days. But Jack miscalculated and when he opens the door there sits Jim on the bed. So he looks like he's about to bolt but I give him a look like 'are you really this big a coward' and he steps inside like I have him at gunpoint, but closes the door like he's making a STATEMENT.  
Being me, I shoved my diary into the vanity drawer and walked over to flop onto the bed. HINT HINT, BOYS.  
Jack goes so far as to walk to the desk in the far corner and sit down to prove that he's not going to run just because his brother was here first. Jim just gets up way-too-casual and walks over to the vanity table. Goes to studying the piles o'shit I have strewn across it, I guess to give not-cowardly Jack a chance to speak.  
But then the diary pages catch his eye.  
Good thing, too, because I'd about had Jack cornered. I asked him if he found anything interesting when he broke into my room. I had no idea if he had actually done that until he turned bright red when I asked him. Poor guy, thinking I'm not fully aware of how easy it is to pick that lock. Everything I have that's important I carry with me; if he wants the goods he'll have to put his hands in some interesting places.  
Actually, I don't usually leave ANYTHING lying around, even if P. could potentially tell them about my hiding places. If I hadn't been ignoring those diary pages so determinedly, I'd have put them away by now and Jim would never have seen them. Lucky me, I guess--it sidetracked them both. And by "sidetracked" I mean it started a fight over who got the treasure and then I had to kick them both out.  
...


	31. Day 46, Aug. 30th

They've come to me individually with apologies and asked to see the papers. I haven't told them about the gun, but I think P. has been hinting to both of them about me hiding something so I've got to do something to keep them distracted. I'm not sure I should show them everything I've got, though--they're both too easy to manipulate, with Jack constantly underestimating the Puppeteer and Jim letting his compassion blind him.  
But on the other hand, Jim's cautious and thorough and if these pages are fake, then if anyone can spot the damning inconsistency it's Jim. Maybe I'll start off with the first bits I found and draw it out. If either of them has interesting ideas about it, I'll confess to having more pages.  
Or send them searching on their own; it's not as though I think I found every last piece of these diaries.  
...


	32. Day 47, Aug. 31st

The poor fools each think they're onto something. I agree that these pages paint a very dramatic picture, but I am not convinced it's the real one. Hell, I'm not entirely convinced *they're* for real. Who's to say Doc Hottie isn't the Puppeteer undercover in his own stupid-ass house? ...I mean...other than the fact that P. talks to me all the time while Jim is in the room clearly not saying anything...or the fact that I overhear conversations between the two all the time...oh, shut up. The speaker guy could be an accomplice.  
Whatever. It's still been interesting watching them read. Jack predictably had more of a reaction to the scraps I showed him from P's diary; he read a few disparaging comments about himself and the Underground, jumped up, and stormed out shouting something like "you wanna play? Let's play!" which P. and I both found sort of hilarious.  
Seriously. Never, EVER tell Jack, but P. was on the speakers in my room laughing about it for-freaking-ever. I felt kind of bad laughing with him, but...well...who reads two freaking pages and flies off the handle like that? I can't even say he went off half-cocked. Is there such a thing as quarter-cocked?  
Jim, on the other hand, is meticulous enough to make me nervous. I forgot that P's diary scraps sort of allude to him having hidden a weapon in the house and wondering whether one of the brothers would find a use for it. Jim sort of glossed over that part and focused more on trying to connect John with the house, but I can tell his interest has been piqued. Guess I'd better prepare myself for the Wrath of the Fairwoods if they find out I've been hiding things.  
Speaking of hiding things, this book does not leave my sight. The Puppeteer and his big gossipy mouth thinking it's funny to drop hints and screw me over is one thing, but I might actually die if Jack finds out I'm secretly hoping for him to prostitute himself for found weaponry.  
Unless he decides that's a splendid idea and invites his brother along for the ride, but you and I both know the odds of THAT.  
...


	33. Day 48, Sept. 1st

They're both back today. Jack was calmer--maybe he worked off some of his frustration with some grand new plan to thwart the Puppeteer, but more likely he's just been up all night thinking about the possibility of finding secret passages and exits from the house written in John's diary. As though I wouldn't have said something by now, but Jack tends to discount anything he doesn't discover for himself.  
He had some insights while reading today's selection of John's diary--even managed to get absorbed enough to not ask me if I had anything more interesting, though probably he just thinks I wouldn't hide anything from him. But P's pages managed to baffle him. Reading that P. admires the Underground and Jack's own determination to escape or die trying pretty much just broke Jack's brain. Took him a full thirty seconds to work up to his usual frothing rage. It feels weird to be relieved when someone starts stomping around the room shouting challenges.  
Jim worries me more. I keep hoping he'll turn up something and say the diaries are probably fake, but he seems more and more convinced they're genuine. He even took some of John's diary to show to Jenny, to see if she can confirm anything.  
That was...odd. She remembered John's face and a lot of the incidents he described in his diary, but she skipped whole pages like she hadn't even seen them. Then later in the day, we were looking for more of those wooden toys she's been hunting, and she told me she couldn't remember the elder brother's name. John's name was on the first page of the diary; she couldn't have missed it. So why can she recall the younger brother, and the mother, but not John?  
...


	34. Day 49, Sept. 2nd

I'm not saying I'm not crazy, because I totally am. But unfortunately I seem to not be delusional. Jim noticed the same thing I did about the rats in John's diary. He's suspicious, I can tell. That makes me nervous in ways I can't really even explain. I know he wants to help the Puppeteer, but I really don't think it's a good idea for him to go trying to psychoanalyze a guy who can hit a button or two and erase us from this life. Not that it matters what I think. Jim is just like Jack; he just hides it better. Neither of them will listen to reason once they've got an idea in their heads.  
Jack, bless him, is still a couple of steps behind. Just now connected the Jane in John's diary with our Jenny. For everyone's sake, I didn't tell him Jim already asked her about it.  
...


	35. Day 50, Sept. 3rd

The plot thickens.  
Jim showed up before Jack, for once, wanting to go over the pages with a fine-toothed comb of SCIENCE. He's so cute when he gets excited. Not that all his conclusions weren't interesting--I think it's pretty cool that he can tell John's age and personality just from a few entries in a diary--but I was mostly focused on how animated he gets when he's reconstructing the past. He's almost like a different person, and it's easy to get sucked into that world where we're just trying to find out more about some kid who wrote a diary and might have been a friend of Jenny's, where it's easy to forget that the pages sitting just to our right mention the deaths of forty-seven people in this house, before any of us ever set foot inside.  
Forty-seven. And here we are, just as trapped as they were.

Sorry. I got distracted and a lot has happened in...holy shit, two hours? Wow.  
So first Jim switches abruptly from John's diary to P's, talking about how much you can learn about a person from his writing and how P's personality is starting to show. I can already sort of tell where his mind is going when he suddenly switches back to John's diary, reads the last few pages I could have sworn I hid from him (where did he even find them? Did I forget to separate them out or something, or subconsciously leave them in there out of morbid curiosity?) and then bolts, saying he has to speak to the Puppeteer one-on-one.  
I almost followed him, but then Jack showed up in a free demonstration of his spectacularly bad timing. Jim more or less knows what he's doing, so I sit back down with Jack and hope to God I don't wind up having to stop him from doing something stupid. Except he reads through the rest of everything quietly, then looks up at me and in this TERRIFYINGLY grim tone says, "has my brother read this?"  
And when I said yes, he just...blanched. No other word for it. Scared me shitless, to be honest, because I've only ever seen that look on Jim when Jack's about to die of his own stupidity.  
Needless to say, we didn't sit around any longer. Headed straight for the library and Jack just barely managed to tackle his brother before Jim managed to die of HIS stupidity. Did you know there's a booby trap in the library closet? There's a booby trap in the library closet. Much as I don't mind the idea of Jim chained to the wall...  
Okay, I can't even perv today. I'm exhausted. I'll perv later when I'm done following Jim around to make sure P. doesn't try to kill him again for being such a nosy bastard.  
...


	36. Day 51. Sept. 4th

The Fairwoods ate breakfast together.  
I repeat, Jack and Jim ate breakfast together. In the same room. Together. Without shouting. Everybody's in shock.  
You can tell it won't last, though. Jack probably saved Jim's life yesterday, and they've got some sort of truce going on because of it, but it doesn't mean they actually get along. You can cut the tension in this house with a knife.  
Which is why I was avoiding them again, or at least trying to. Jenny grabbed me before I could escape the breakfast table and "suggested" I go help Jim with his morning practice. So I said "Oh boy! Patching up newbs! My FAVORITE!" and made plans to slip off as soon as Jim got distracted, which knowing anyone named Fairwood would take about thirty seconds.  
Nothing against the newbs, by the way. They just depress me. Half of them disappear within a week. I honestly don't understand how P. can stand it--watching all these people just steadily lose the will to fight.  
Anyway. We weren't pimping out the doc's bandaging prowess for very long when the Puppeteer himself suddenly spoke up--scaring the shit out of me, I might add, and if the flinch from the girl getting stitches in her arm was any indication, Jim must have jumped a little too--and told us we needed to hurry up and go through the children's room "while the bird is still in the cage."  
Well, you know me. I don't need to hem and haw and rationalize when P. says something interesting is going on. I jump right up and use that shit as an excuse to avoid awkward situations where Jenny obviously expects me to pry personal information out of the cagiest bastard in this house, BAR. NONE.  
Hear that, P.? You're outmatched.  
I met Chester on the way up the stairs  
Shit, I haven't mentioned Chester yet... He's a friend of mine, same one that usually comes to fetch me whenever the Fairwoods are about to throw down. An Undergrounder officially, but I really don't see why Jack trusts him. He reminds me of the Cheshire cat: always smiling like he knows something we don't. Which he probably does, because like me he tends to listen at keyholes.  
So I ran into Chester and apparently P. was very bored this morning, because he's clearly trying to break the Fairwood stalemate by restarting the rivalry. Chester says P. wanted Jack to hurry to the children's room before his brother got there. Jack, being Jack and therefore easy to manipulate, sent Chester to check things out.  
When we got there, we both completely missed what P. wanted us to find. We were busy rifling the room when this chick who had been sitting there the whole time finally cleared her throat and scared us both. Must be the day for that.  
Her name's Tan Nakamura. She's very quiet, very polite, and very suspect in my opinion. I mean, of all the newbs that P. drags into this house on a regular basis, why is this one so special?  
...


	37. Day 52, Sept. 5th

I feel a little guilty about how badly this Tan woman is pissing me off. She's lovely. Perfectly polite, and for once I have someone on my side in this...uh...not-taking-sides issue...I worded that badly. I mean both Fairwoods jumped at the chance to get her in their factions, but she told them both to shove it.  
Politely. And secondhand, because I had to break the news to them both. But the gist is the same.  
And would you believe they both backed off? They had the nerve to tell ME that if she wanted to stay neutral, that was perfectly fine and they wouldn't push her. What happened to "between two stools, one falls to the ground" and "there's no place for neutrality in this house"? Do you have to be Japanese?  
Okay, so I'm bitter. Not her fault...though I still think she's suspicious as fuck, and not JUST because I'm jealous. She asked me to help her find her tea set, which the rats stole--when exactly this happened was a point she wasn't real clear on. Plus every piece I've found so far was hidden away and covered in dust. That's not unusual for stuff I find here, but for the personal tea set of an apparent new arrival?  
P's possibly-fake diary mentions three disciples. Just saying.  
...


	38. Day 53, Sept. 6th

Enough social drama. Back to basics: at last I've found all the pieces to the hallway puzzle. I had to pilfer some of them, not gonna lie. Cache is in the base of the table; turn the left leg clockwise and dial the phone 6723. I'm nervous about this one; P. has said it's something "curious" again and he's curious to see what I do with it. History states that this bodes ill.

Well, since I didn't have to work around the Brothers Dramatique, I managed the cache run easily. Found the fourth key and...a puppet. P. had plenty to say about it. "Many years ago, a beautiful woman lay here in a pool of blood, and a little boy sobbed nearby. I still feel sorry for them. This puppet was made in memory of her. You have it now, and I suggest you make best use of it."  
She's...well, she's beautiful. And in light of the possibly-fake diary pages, I'm just a little too caught up in sentiment to throw her away. She's got pride of place in my curio cabinet right now, until I find a use for her. Perhaps as a hiding place; after all, most of the puppets in the house have a hidden compartment or three.

Wait. Wait wait wait.  
Okay, I checked the puppet for hidden compartments...like I should have to begin with! There's a piece of paper inside--a piece of some kind of schematic, looks like.  
Bah, P is riddling. "A few small fragments will completely replace the flap of a butterfly's wings...." Chaos theory? Really? Bastard.  
Fucker must be in a good mood today, because he turned all coy after that discovery and invited me to a new room: the attic. Said he'd be waiting, which, you know. I assumed he meant it figuratively, as in "I will be monitoring you specifically and probably spouting off barbed comments as you risk life and limb in a horrorshow of my devising." Then I get into the attic, and there's a bank of surveillance screens with a giant-ass puppet sitting in the chair in front of them. I admit I did a double-take. Who wouldn't? But then P. starts mocking me for thinking I was actually going to meet him, and thinking the ordeal was over or something like that, and I was just like..."but I didn't think that." I have what, four keys? I wasn't even remotely in the "oh boy, Moment of Truth time!" mindset. But that doesn't stop me from being embarrassed when some jackass is telling me about how foolish he thinks I am. So for all that the Puppeteer is growing on me--and he is; those diary pages have been wonderful for my Stockholm Syndrome--I am SO going to punch him in the face if I ever meet him in person.  
...


	39. Day 54, Sept. 7th

Found the rest of Tan's tea set. She thanked me with tea and a "parable"--her word.  
Once upon a time there was a tiger who was very arrogant. By the end of the story, the tiger is still arrogant, but now he's delusional too. I held my tongue because she seemed so grateful to have someone to confess to, but honestly--teaching others to fight for themselves? Why is it anyone's business who fights and who doesn't? What gives them the right to tell us what to "appreciate" and how much? The lessons they've learned are all wrong, and here I sit with no way to convince them they haven't really been Enlightened.  
Maybe that's why it's so important to Jim to "cure" the Puppeteer. Moving mountains would appeal to someone so stubborn.  
I bet P's a real looker, by the way. Cute and crazy seem to be directly proportional in this house. The Fairwoods are both batshit, and P's worse so he MUST be hotter.  
This is what it's come to, then. I'm locked in a murder house, solving puzzles for a maniac, and I've finally gone insane so I pass the time speculating about the aesthetics of my captor/murderer's derriere.  
...It's probably not better than Jack's.  
...


	40. Day 55, Sept. 8th

Been distracted with everything else going on; haven't actually been going through rooms as much unless P asks me to directly. With a lot of help from some of the other 'puppets' though, I've finished the puzzle for the nursery. Cache is in the bed post; turn the wall sconce and pull the switch on the dresser lamp.  
Went straightaway to pass the test. New key, new puppet. Will try to remember P's words exactly: "This ragamuffin looks like the little boy who lived here once. That day he was in the living room, so he died. The other one stayed alive..."

I can't feel sorry for him. I CAN'T. Going to go see Jack....

Well, that was an unmitigated disaster.  
I figured Jack would be good for a rant or two: a convenient reminder of exactly why it's bad to empathize with lunatics who lock people up in booby-trapped mansions for entertainment. Jack, however, was not so much in a mood to oblige. In fact he was in a towering temper (more so than usual, I mean). Seemed to be under the impression that one of his "trusted allies" was conspiring against him with Jim and/or the Puppeteer. I'm not sure how the conversation wound around from him thinking I knew who it was to him thinking it was ME, but somehow he found out about the gun and I'm sure I don't need to spell out the reaction.  
I don't know what he thinks he's going to do with that peashooter, but I handed it over. Or threw it at his head, if we're being painfully accurate about the sort of shit I do when I lose my temper. Did I mention Jack's not the only one around here with a temper? Anyway, somewhere in the midst of all the shouting and accusations, I got a little irrational, attempted to brain Jack with the gun, and effectively declared my allegiance with the Followers, not that they'll have me after I ARMED THE RESISTANCE. Ugh.  
My head hurts. I think I'll sleep for a few days and pretend this didn't happen.  
...


	41. Day 56, Sept. 9th

Jenny found a room she swears P. has never mentioned: a little home theater with a projector and screen. Kind of cute, actually. Been exploring most of the day to distract myself--well, to distract myself but also because exploring new rooms is kind of what I do. I'd almost guarantee that if I found a secret passage out of here, I'd go over it with a fine-toothed comb, log all the interesting shit, and then go back to my room to discuss it with my diary and/or any non-Jack cohorts who might be present.  
Oh God, I'm turning into Jim.  
Oh well. At least it's better than this poor bastard who left a note in the theater. He addressed it to "Feather" and I thought "well, the Puppeteer calls me Feather sometimes and also exhibits bizarre foresight, so maybe it's for me?" but the handwriting was wrong and also it's about 500% not-arrogant-enough to be from P. Just some poor puppet who maybe-accidentally picked up P's habit of giving vague hints and leading people on merry chases through the house after various mystery items of dubious usefulness.  
Of course, since I'm Jim now, my first thought was "mystery items of dubious usefulness? HOW INTERESTING! I MUST IMMEDIATELY FOLLOW THIS CLUE REGARDLESS OF ITS TOTAL LACK OF RELEVANCE!"  
And away I went. There was a knife in the mattress in the children's room--good place for it--along with another note that sent me rabbiting off to the front hall, where SPEAKING OF Jim and the chasing of irrelevant clues, the doc was examining bullet holes in the walls. He mentioned that the caliber seemed consistent with the gun I'd found, which pretty much floored me because it means he found out about the gun already and I weirdly assumed that meant Jack had confided in him, before remembering that Jim pretty much always knows what Jack's up to almost as soon as he gets up to it.  
At least Jim seemed to understand why I'd kept it to myself, which was nice. I'm not sure Jack will ever speak to me again, so having Jim understand is comforting.  
...


	42. Day 57, Sept. 10th

The cameras are malfunctioning in the basement. Can you spell trouble? I can: J-A-C-K.  
Jim sent me to check it out, because a person whose name is currently Mud with the Underground and who also knows nothing about cameras is totally the best choice for that. Chester let me in, but was unusually closed-mouthed about what the rats are up to, which leads me to believe it's something he thinks I won't like.  
Great guess there, Chester. Jack has a gun, and very little sense. Whatever he's gonna do next, I am not going to like it and we can only pray that it doesn't get him killed. Or anyone else killed.  
Except maybe Alice. Fuck Alice.  
...


	43. Day 58, Sept. 11th

Jim is looking for an old model train and is being rather secretive about it. I've been helping him all day, and when he finally revealed his big shocking secret about why he's running chemical analyses on a toy train, I nearly hit him. There's blood on the train, Jim? Really? I'd never have guessed it would be BLOOD! Here? In this house? Butter my butt and call me a biscuit!  
I mean really, doc. There is blood on every surface in this house. Everybody's blood. It would not shock me to find out we've all contracted hepatitis.  
On a more...somber note, Jim's theories combining the bullet holes in the walls and the blood on the train back up the story in P's diary. As does P's story about the woman in the hallway. Dammit.  
...


	44. Day 59, Sept. 12th

Jim and I fixed the cameras. I don't see why we bothered. If Jack's plotting, having eyes in the basement won't do any good.  
Still following the trail of notes from not-P. He's secreted away a roll of bandages made from sheets, some peroxide, and a sleeping bag made from a blanket. All useful items, I suppose, but more interesting are the allusions to what life must have been like for the "Act I" puppets. Jenny thinks it's different--worse than our version--but I don't know. I don't know how she rationalizes the disappearances from our current string of puppets, but I make rounds every single day and I'm not in denial about what happens to the people I don't find when I do. There's a suicide every other week. Exsanguination from traps more frequently. Concussions. Infections. At least one case of anaphylaxis. According to the diary, Act I had around fifty people. This time around there had to be at least that many arriving SINCE I got here, and more than half of them have left wrapped in sheets. And she just...doesn't notice?  
...


	45. Day 60, Sept. 13th

I don't even know what to SAY.  
I should be used to this by now. Business as usual, collecting things, helping people find things, snarky banter with P... then it all blows up into some spectacular drama or other, usually instigated by a Fairwood.  
Jim turned up missing today. I wouldn't normally think anything of this; Jim is usually predictable but he's also batshit crazy, like most males in this house. It's always possible he's off on some goose chase or another. But then Jenny realized his med kit was still in the living room, and he goes NOWHERE without that thing. Only then do we realize there are fresh bullet holes in the walls.  
Cue panic mode. There's no fresh blood, but there's also no doubt in my mind now who took Jim, and Jack has NOT been at his most stable recently. Not that his most stable is very fucking stable in the first place.  
So off I go to peek into the basement and SURE ENOUGH, there's Jim tied to a chair and Jack's waving a gun around, with Chester just standing there watching like he doesn't see this situation ending in tears. I turn around and JUST manage to get Jenny talked out of going down there with a frying pan and pounding some sense into Jack's thick skull when we hear gunshots. It strikes me that if Jack has actually killed his brother this time, I'm going to live with the fact that I personally handed him that gun. As if this isn't bad enough, Jenny hears someone coming from down the hall and peeks out, then panics and announces that it's Alice and we have to keep her and Jack from crossing paths. So off she goes to head off Alice (who even is this Alice; seriously how do you live in the same house with people for months and never cross paths with them?) while I try to formulate a plan to stop Jack.  
My plan is complex and brilliantly conceived: I walk down the basement steps and hope Jack's not actually mad enough at me to put his bullets where his mouth is.  
Two things become immediately apparent once I shut the basement door: one, Jim is not in trouble. Two, Jack is DEFINITELY in trouble. Sure, Jim's the one tied to a chair, but he's rather blase about it and Jack's not even looming or shouting anymore. In fact, he's dropped the gun after using it to shoot the basement camera.  
He is so dead. I don't know when or how, but P. is going to make him pay for that. And no one seems to believe me.  
But I digress. My "rescue" is conducted with much rolling of eyes as I cut Jim loose and repossess the pistol. Chester had the gall to SMIRK at me, so it's a good thing the gun wasn't still loaded. At least the brothers wound up having an actual talk, but if you ask me Jim was WAY too sure his brother wouldn't hurt him. You have no idea how hard I had to bite my tongue to keep from informing the good doctor that in all likelihood, Jack would've wound up killing him ACCIDENTALLY if that warning shot had gone astray. THEN where would we be? Doctorless and with Jack on a guilt-driven rampage through the house.  
Took forever to track Chester down again afterward and even then he wouldn't tell me much that made sense, but apparently Jack made gunpowder out of crap that was lying around the house and melted down coins for bullets. HOW is that man still alive?  
...


	46. Day 61, Sept. 14th

Jenny woke me up early fretting about how all the excitement has delayed her plans to decorate for the equinox celebration; having been up late last night trying to get Chester to talk to me in actual human words, I did not appreciate it. But it's Jenny, so to stop her from getting all...well, how she gets, I got up and followed her to the basement. We hadn't even really gotten started gathering her decorations when Jack came looming out of the darkness and scared the living hell out of us. Then he found out she wanted to do another Celtic celebration and just totally lost his shit. I actually thought he was going to attack her there for a second...till Jenny hit him in the face with a wrench.  
A better person than I would have laughed at that.  
Anyhow, Jack vetoed "Mabon" but has plans for Oktoberfest next week, which I guess will be good for morale. I'd be more excited about it if Jack hadn't mentioned a "surprise" which started me worrying about whether something is going to blow up soon. Please god let it just be that he found a way to make beer in the basement. Or bourbon. I could use some hundred proof.  
...


	47. Day 62, Sept. 15th

Was up early and prompt to breakfast so I could enjoy the drastically different atmosphere in the house. Jack and Jim aren't suddenly hanging out and acting all buddy-buddy, but it really seems like their reconciliation has eased some of the tension around here. Plus the upcoming celebration has Jenny excited, and when Jenny's excited the whole house brightens up.  
Then again, when Jenny gets that determined gleam in her eyes, the whole house holds its breath in dread.  
This time, she wants the kitchen refurbished. It IS a mess, but I don't see why she's waited to rope the Fairwoods into fixing things. Half the stuff that needs done, I could do just as easily as Jack could. And Chester's scrawny but he can still move cabinets. Not that we'd TELL her this, but it's funny how she harasses Jack and Jim for things when they're so "busy" with their own "important" projects. Keeps them here in the real world, I guess.  
Took half a day's worth of nagging from both Jenny and me, but finally we had a small group of people at work fixing the kitchen. It was pretty nice. Jack and Jim were even joking around like brothers instead of stewing and/or shouting. We got the whole room cleaned up and shiny and more or less in working order. It was almost like NOT living in a murder house.  
It wasn't all smooth sailing, of course. Jim sort of implied he's found a gun as well and was asking Jack about his method of making gunpowder, and Jack...I think Jack might have something a little more dangerous up his sleeve. He's been too cheerful, almost manic. He only gets like that when he thinks he's got one over on P. Thus far those plans have ALWAYS backfired. He'd better not get killed. I will not EVER forgive him if he gets himself killed.  
...


	48. Day 64, Sept. 17th

Cleaning the kitchen turned into a housewide project. Groups of Followers and Undergrounders can be seen following their leaders' example and teaming up to get the worst of the mess taken care of, though in most cases it's hilariously awkward because unlike the brothers they have no previous amity to build on. Everyone's got a feeling of anticipation, though only a few of them really know what it's about because Jack and Jenny want to keep their little festival thing a surprise.  
Even the Puppeteer's become a bit playful--he spoke up earlier to tease us about missing fresh air and hint that there might be a way to get outside. Everyone immediately went nuts trying to figure out what he meant, but Jim figured out pretty quickly that there was a puzzle to solve.  
Always with the puzzles. I'm practically bleeding myself dry going through the library, trying to find the last pieces of that puzzle. It's almost like a compulsion now--find the next piece, keep moving forward, ignore the dread, trust the Puppeteer's word. If we solve all the puzzles we get out alive. Right?  
All in all, I'm glad for the positive feeling hanging about the house. It's calming, and I need that now. I'm going stir crazy in here.  
...


	49. Day 68, Sept. 21st

It's been a few days of franticness from Jenny and several reiterations of Jack's speech about how much he hates Celtic festivals. He's starting to remind me of me, in that he will bitch to anyone who will listen and to half the people who won't. He told me that he's traumatized because Jenny made him represent a bush in some play or something. I wasn't sympathetic. He's a grown-ass man and he can say "no" to Jenny; I have seen him do it. Next he started griping about how he didn't want to let her do another Celtic celebration because he was afraid he'd wind up "portraying the hind end of some ancient godling's horse." I asked him why that would be a problem for him, since the casting would be perfect and he does a marvellous job on a daily basis of practicing for the role. He wasn't amused, but Chester thought it was hilarious so I counted it as a win.  
After all that, though, we've finally launched Oktoberfest in the Puppeteer's mansion. There's cider and pretzels, and Jack even pranked Jim by switching his clothes with a Bavarian national costume--not that Jim batted an eye, but it was funny. Wish I had a camera.  
...


	50. Day 69, Sept. 22nd

I didn't mention Jack's surprise! No, nothing blew up. He managed to get his hands on some apples and make cider, somehow--really I have no idea where the fresh fruit and veggies come from for these celebrations; does P. actually have a conscience buried in there somewhere and gives us stuff so we can celebrate and not waste away out of boredom and despair?  
Okay, I took that to a dark place when really my original intention was "cider! Yay!" Non-alcoholic because Bill is trying to quit drinking. I guess that's ok. If we had everyone staggering around THIS house drunk on beer or alcoholic cider, it would be a blood bath.  
Music and dancing has taken over the usual silence and stillness in the house; I'm even hearing laughter in the halls. I wonder if people are so much happier about this fest than they were about Lughnasadh because they've actually heard of this one.  
...


	51. Day 73, Sept. 26th

I am in no way surprised. I want that on record. I am not surprised and no one else should be, either.  
Jack went missing today.  
Or, should I say, Jack was missed today. In the festive atmosphere we've had going in this house, everyone has been a little harder to keep track of, and Jack is one of the more elusive ones anyway when he isn't working on a project in his basement. So no one noticed he was gone, not even me with my habit of checking on everybody every day. I worried a little when I didn't see him for a couple of days, but I thought maybe he'd remembered he's angry with me and taken to avoiding me.  
Which is stupid, because Jack goes LOOKING for trouble. He never hides from it. So for future reference, if I can't find someone and I assume it's just because they don't want to be found, I'm being STUPID and should turn the whole house upside down, okay?  
Anyway. I found a note just outside my bedroom door today, ostensibly from Jack, asking me to come to the basement. I would not realize until later why I thought that odd.  
Jack was not in the basement when I arrived. Major red flag. Then Jim said the note isn't even in his handwriting. Red flag number two, and also a lightbulb on why the note seemed weird to me. No, I didn't notice the handwriting discrepancy: I get notes from a lot of people in this house, and ones from Jack are never left outside the room. Never. He sticks them in above the door latch, where they're sure to be seen.  
Just another lesson in listening to my gut. All the time I wasted...this could have been so much worse.  
Jim and I searched the house, but it was Jenny who found him. Said a ghostly vapor showed up in the third-floor hall and slid under the library door. Sure enough Jack was there, chained up half-dead. He seemed okay besides the dehydration, but Jim was frantic, and the Puppeteer was...weird. Can't put my finger on it.  
He asked Jim if he would fight for Jack's freedom, which, duh. I was summarily thrown out of the room. I will never understand why they do that since they invariably come to me for help with whatever mission arises from their Super Secret Discussions. Bet you anything Jim knocks on the door wanting me to help him with some sort of

Told you. Simple tasks, really. Pass the tests, avoid the traps. Jim isn't really adept at passing rooms though, because he's used to having others spill the blood and then just patching them up afterward. The only doctor in the house shouldn't take risks, after all. And P. knows this. So the real task is keeping Jim calm enough to pass the tests...which is a feat, let me tell you. He's supposed to be the cool head in this house, but this has him rattled. He's worried about his brother, distracted by P's weird mood, and generally just off his game enough to get hurt. He's already nearly broken his arm.  
Of course, our darling host has no intention of ending this game quickly, so we've been at it all day but we haven't rescued Jack yet. I think I'll go sit with him, if P. doesn't pitch a fit. And if I don't wind up having to tie Jim down to stop him rushing through more tests and hurting himself again.  
...


	52. Day 74, Sept. 27th

Jack is in fine spirits for a man chained to a sofa. Now that Jim's managed to pull him from the brink of death, he's in full resistance mode, running his Underground from the third floor and trying everything he can think of to break that chain. Chester's busier than I've ever seen him. I'm hoping he can spare some time to help Jim with these tests, because Tan has turned up and her "arrogant tiger" side is definitely showing. Would you believe the bitch actually said 'it could have been worse'? I KNOW it could have been worse! It doesn't NOT MATTER just because the worst possible thing didn't happen!  
Yes, I'm still helping the brat find her books. She said something about "the dead attracting the dead" and wanting to help heal the soul of the house. Considering how most of us might end up, that's a project I can get behind regardless of my feelings for the person running it.

Evening: wow, that actually didn't take as long as I thought. P's going soft...wink, snicker, immature eyebrow wiggle.  
I didn't stick around for the big reunion--predictably, both brothers behaved as though they'd been away from each other for weeks. I suppose Jim does legitimately need to worry about Alice seizing control of the Followers if he looks away for a second, but the Undergrounders tend to be fiercely loyal to Jack. He'll be fine. And of course, if Jim needs help with anything, all he really needs to do is ask. I'm a sucker for a pretty face.  
He'd better be careful where he aims those baby blues, though. When he thanked me for my help after the brotherly-love-fest was over, he actually made me BLUSH. Me. Actual blushing.  
...Well, it was only partly the baby blues. I'm not actually all that comfortable with all the thanks Jim doles out, to be honest. The man actually said he couldn't cope without me. So dramatic. I tried to brush it off, but then he brought the Puppeteer into it--Jim breathes a lot of significance into the "Feather" thing. Personally, I'm just not sure. Has everything really changed that much since I got here? Even the Puppeteer? It seems like a lot to swallow. Still, I haven't heard him call anyone else "Feather."  
...


	53. Day 75, Sept. 28th

Between rescuing a Fairwood every other day and managing my shock over the quietest person in this house turning out to also be the most demanding, I have continued to search for the pieces of those damned puzzles. The pieces are harder to find than ever, so even with extensive help from others, I thought I'd never make it. To be honest I'm not entirely sure I wanted to. I've been plugging along in mixed anticipation and dread; he says more with every cache find, but everything he says backs up those diary pages. I don't want those to be true. THEY CAN'T BE TRUE.  
Except...they do explain everything. And Mr. FailJigsaw may be pretty bright but he's not as creative as he thinks he is. Could he really come up with a story this involved, and then steep every room in the house with a false history?

Later: The library cache is in the fireplace. There are places on the mantelpiece that need to be depressed--putting the heavy marble figures from the shelves on them works--and then you press the wood relief on the staircase to trigger the cache opening.  
It's easier just to quote, so as near as I can remember, here's what P. had to say:   
"Now you know where the cache in the library is located. Let's see how you get to the key. I think it will be very amusing."  
"Yes, the cache is indeed in the fireplace. Once you crack it open, I advise you to empty it quickly. It would be very sad if the thing that you want burns to ashes."  
"The puppet that you rescued from fire is a priest. A man who once worked in the library was almost a saint, a king of books, although he did not consider himself one. Perhaps he wanted to live to a great age and die in this room while reading another novel...but his life was interrupted two flights down from here, in the living room. He was forty, and in the last seconds of his life he was gripping the hand of his dead son."  
It was...worse than I thought. Excuse me.  
...


	54. Day 81, Oct. 4th (technically)

It's just after midnight. I'm breathing fresh air for the first time in...almost three months.  
Everyone will be excited. The garden is overgrown; it'll give Jenny something to fuss over besides the state of the plumbing. I should start a betting pool on which Undergrounder will break a bone first trying to climb out of here on that rickety old ladder.  
But for now I have it to myself. Even P. hasn't made a sound, though he's probably watching. He can never resist when we're about to find something new. I wonder when he lost his own sense of discovery and had to start using his puppets to experience it vicariously.  
I shouldn't be this maudlin. I'm OUTSIDE for crying out loud. But all I can think about are messages. All the little notes I've found, and the desperation threading every passage. "We have to get out of here, whatever it takes." "Am I doing the wrong thing?" "Mummy, why?" "I wish I knew who you are, the person who found my note."  
I wonder who will find MY notes. It seems ridiculous to think that way...it's been a long time since I was seriously hurt. I'm too cautious; I sacrifice time for safety; I frustrate the bastard behind the camera and enjoy it thoroughly. But here I am writing, and wondering who I'm writing for. Will there be another Feather after me, reading these passages and wondering what happened to me?

Morning: Sleep does wonders. I'm not entirely out of my funk, but at least everyone else is awake now and exploring the yard. Sure enough, Jenny's already fretting about the state of the rose bushes and Jack is rattling the gates.  
Tan hasn't shown her face outdoors. She's been neck deep in her books for days now, looking for ghost lore. She doesn't talk to anyone but me and Jenny...not that she was overly social before; but it's kind of impressive to see her get MORE reclusive. I wasn't sure it could be done.  
...


	55. Day 82, Oct. 5th

Jim is missing AGAIN. Even Jenny is starting to pick up on the ridiculousness. Luckily he wasn't hard to find: Jack did a lot of reading while he was trapped in the library and Jim is now sifting through books looking for some notes Jack found in the margins. So I guess I'll search for more books. Good thing I love books, right?

Later: Okay, I admit that this particular goose-chase of Jim's is turning out to be pretty fun. Ciphers in the margins of fairy tales--right up my alley.  
Not that I know anything about decoding ciphers, but the IDEA is fun. And I'm always up for spending time with Jim. Usually he's just sending me places to find stuff for him. Which is actually kind of shitty of him, now that I think about it.  
But enough about how I resent being sent to fetch things by everybody in the house, but yet I do it anyway and never complain. Jim's taught me a bit of graphology, and P. is sure to catch on soon that we're doing something interesting and, like the overgrown child that he is, he's sure to do something to shake things up a bit.  
...


	56. Day 83, Oct. 6th

Sure enough. Our Master of Mindfuckery mentioned Kipling to Jim, and of course we all know whose favorite Kipling was. Another little connection between John and the Puppeteer, and between Jenny and John. I thought Jim would wet himself with excitement. Poor guy really needs a safer hobby, but I guess he's addicted to stirring up hornet's nests. On top of prying into the Puppeteer's past, he's decided to take the Kipling book and John's diary to Jenny. I'm not sure what he's hoping for but I don't see this ending well. We were lucky last time. At some point he's going to really set her off and THEN what?

We're not even going to discuss how I was right. It should be a given by now.  
...


	57. Day 84, Oct. 7th

Poor Jenny. She's so embarrassed about shouting at Jim. Personally, I think she has every right to shout at Jim. People shouldn't have unpleasant things shoved in their faces without warning, and the "oh by the way, you were childhood sweethearts with the Puppeteer" revelation that Jim is working up to is pretty damned unpleasant.  
I didn't mention any of that, of course. I keep my opinion to myself unless it's asked for; less messy that way. I just helped her compile all the fairy tales into a neat little collection to "make it up to Jim." Seems redundant to give him a collection of things he's already found, but Fairwoods are absurdly easy to please. He was pleased with it. The bits of toys Jenny found in the spines were an added bonus.  
So now he's holed up in his room, studying the pieces. I hope whatever he finds doesn't get him into too much trouble.  
He's looking pretty hard for trouble these days. When I found him today, he was in the front hall studying a very interesting phenomenon on the wall: ghostly letters appearing out of nowhere. Most other people would add this to the vaguely humanoid silhouette that appears on the stairs now and then and come up with a big NOPE, but not Jim. He's just standing there in the creepy, probably-haunted front hall, musing aloud over whether it's some joke of P's or just a collective hallucination. I guess I need to get Tan to school him on supernatural matters...if I can pry her away from her books. She's gone completely incommunicado since mentioning a ritual. It must be harder to put together than she expected.  
...


	58. Day 85, Oct. 8th

Haven't seen Jim; he's still studying that toy, I guess. The man is obnoxiously thorough. Seems like he needs to prove things five or six times over before considering them true. Now, I'm a fan of caution because I hate to be wrong, but this guy puts me to SHAME. I finally accepted what those diary pages and the puppets in the caches have been telling me. Jim, on the other hand...he wants the truth so badly, but he seems so unwilling to accept it. He comments on Jenny's denial, but can't see his own.  
I did see Jack, though. He's missing a puzzle box and I'm the go-to find-it girl. I may as well help him out; it's not as though I'm getting anywhere with my own projects right now. I can't finish the attic puzzle because P. says even he doesn't have the final piece. I suspect I know who does, and it's going to be a problem. With anyone else in the house I can just ask...or at least offer a trade. I have no idea how to motivate Tan, though. She's too reserved. It's creepy as fuck, to be honest.

Damn. Jack is really, really riled about this puzzle box. He's nearly frantic. I've never seen him in this state of temper unless it's directly connected to the Puppeteer, but this seems more personal.  
...


	59. Day 86, Oct. 9th

Jim assembled a puppet from the pieces Jenny found. It's a peasant woman, in the same style as the three puppets I found in the caches...and it has Jenny's face.  
Jim wants to find out if there are any others, and I'm...strangely torn on the subject. Sure, Jim has read the diaries and pieced together the gist of the tragedy, but I'm pretty sure that the only one who's seen the puppets so far is me. It has almost felt like the whole horrific story is a secret between the Puppeteer and me. Letting Jim in on it feels weirdly like betraying a confidence.  
Which bothers me on a couple of levels. I pride myself on my ability to keep a secret, but isn't being willing to keep my captor's confidences going just a little far?  
Speaking of secrets, I've found more pieces of that puzzle box, but not the box itself. Jack is going to hit the roof. Maybe he'll leave a nice big hole we can escape through? Hmm. I'm not sure if the Loony Tunes approach to escaping the Puppeteer's mansion has been tried yet. Maybe it's worth a shot.

...I asked P. if he had the contact info for ACME. He was either really confused, or he's a better actor than I gave him credit for. Best entertainment I've had for a WHILE. I just hope he doesn't hurt me too badly for having him on.  
...


	60. Day 87, Oct. 10th

It has officially hit the fan concerning that puzzle box. We interrogated Jim, who didn't know anything, but he's lost some of the Followers' trust because he associates with rats and free agents like me. Personally, I figure that type of Follower--the cagey, fanatical kind who isn't worth the air he's breathing--is the most likely to steal something of personal value just out of meanness, so that leaves us with one glaring lead: Alice. You know, the shady lady I've never met and really hoped to never meet. As soon as her name was mentioned, Jack stormed off to hunt her down, while Jim inexplicably took it in his head that I needed to be reassured that Jack wouldn't kill her because she's a woman. Like, what? Are women inherently unkillable? I can think of plenty of women who NEED a good killing. From what I've heard, this Alice seems to be one of them. Especially if it was her who handed over Jack's personal belongings to the Puppeteer. If someone gave P. that kind of ammo against ME, there would be a whole lot worse than yelling and fist-shaking. In this house, accidents can happen VERY easily.  
Just saying.  
...


	61. Day 89, Oct. 12th

It's been quiet for a couple of days. Jack's been slamming around in the basement, muttering darkly to himself, and Jim is searching for puppets. I've kept quiet on that score for now, and weirdly there's been no taunting from P. about it. That bugs me because, you know, normally I can sort of tell what he wants me to do based on his teasing and/or condescending remarks. With this, there's nothing.  
All in all, I've been uneasy, so I was relieved when Jenny searched me out...until she said what she wanted. Our darling host told her "it's easy to hide something often seen" and she wanted me to check that stupid mannequin in the attic. I wanted to refuse, but then P. WOULD taunt me and yes, I know it's stupid to care about his opinion of me but I HATE it when he implies that I'm stupid or cowardly. I HATE it.  
So up I went, into that dank dusty room, and sure enough there's a guy sitting in the chair where the mannequin usually lurks.  
And he was a DOUCHE. Seriously. Whipped around and before I could say anything, snapping that he's not the Puppeteer and that I shouldn't bother him. Geez. Like I was gonna bother him. Or assume he was P. The man is too old to be our maniac, and according to my cute/crazy index, he's not good-looking enough.  
Jenny thinks this "Ryan Force" might be lying when he says he's not P, but Jim agrees with me--dismissed the idea out of hand, actually. Unusual for him to be so decisive. Maybe he's just distracted with other things. He bowed out of the 'investigation,' after all, and usually he wants to know everything about everything. Instead of leaping on the opportunity to learn new useless information on someone, Doc said Jenny will find out everything about this dude without his help. Judging by the way she's stalking him, I'd say that's right.  
Personally, I'd prefer to leave him alone. Something about him puts a bad taste in my mouth. Could be the arrogance rolling off him in waves--I was in this man's presence for a grand total of thirty seconds and he managed to piss me off more with ONE SENTENCE than my captor/potential murderer has done in THREE MONTHS of prattle. Hear that, P? You're outclassed again. Better step up your game.  
On second thought, please don't.  
...


	62. Day 90, Oct. 13th

Aaand he's off and running again. Collecting. Got the idea from Jenny; apparently she told Jim that everyone in the house collected something, so now the doc has the idea that he NEEDS to track down one of these collections. He thinks Poppa Fall collected coins, so he's asked me to help him track down the collection.  
Well, I do like money.  
I'm going to segue with a simultaneous "speaking of collecting" and "yes, I know I'm insane for considering this less pointless than what Jim's doing": Tan has finally come up for air, and she sent me after Chinese deity masks, of all things. I learned some very cool mythology when I turned them up; each mask represents some form of duality, representing the mixture of good and evil in man and the human troubles that we assign to our gods. I'd have loved to discuss the subject in more depth with Tan, but she was being rather...impatient. She can't get hold of the implements she needs for her ritual, so she's having to substitute Western implements and even those are turning out to be a bit tricky to find. I've sent out some feelers in the house; surely someone will bring us something useful. In the meantime, I'll try to pry more out of her about this ritual and what she thinks is going on in this house than a collection of ancient Chinese legends could possibly shed light on.  
...


	63. Day 91, Oct. 14th

I thought I knew everyone in the house--well, except for Alice and her particular band of Followers. THEM I avoid like the plague. But everyone else, I know by sight if not by name. Except this new girl doesn't act so new.  
Not in a shady way, like Tan. She just seems too confident to be a newbie. Then again, that could be because Jack seems to have rubbed off on her in a big way. She asked for my help with a test in the kitchen, and I came THIS CLOSE to pulling a Jenny and just forcing her to sit down while I fixed food and bandages. Chick was actually STAGGERING because she'd lost so much blood, but she wouldn't just hang back and let me finish the test.  
In other news, my cute/crazy scale holds true. Nat-the-new-Rat is super hot. And completely nuts, if her willingness to shed every last drop of blood is any indication.  
It's like these Undergrounders don't realize what blood is FOR. This is why I didn't join Jack's faction: I like my blood to stay INSIDE my body. It is mine and I am keeping it, dammit!  
...


	64. Day 92, Oct. 15th

Another new acquaintance, this time among the crows: Lance Donovan. He ambushed me in the living room while I was on an errand for Nat (boy, they don't know me more than a day before they start asking me to find shit for them). Said Jim told him to help me. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to mentor this kid, or if Jim honestly thinks he'll be a help to me, or what, but to be honest his scared-rabbit demeanor kind of makes me nervous. I don't like being nervous. It makes me prone to mistakes. As previously mentioned, I prefer my blood to be IN my body, so mistakes are not a good thing to be prone to in this house.  
Tan is as secretive as ever, by the way, but she must have let something slip to Jenny because Jenny is all excited about unearthing some old seance tools from when she and the Fall boys tried to contact the ghost in the garret. She's gone teenage-girl on us and asked Tan if we could do a real seance. Surprised the hell out of me when Tan agreed. So I guess if we can find the old Ouija board, we're doing this shit. Sigh. I don't think I need to explain why it's a bad idea to use a Ouija board in a house with so many stirred-up spirits. I'm already living in a horror movie; did we really need to make the shift from Saw to Paranormal Activity?  
...


	65. Day 93, Oct. 16th

I've been searching a while, though not with a lot of enthusiasm, for the cache in the theater. My mysterious note-writer directed me there in the last message I found, so I've been wandering in here and there when I get time to search. A friend in the Underground pointed me in the right direction, and I hit the jackpot: healing balsam, a first aid kit, some useful sundries, and...a name. The person who left notes for "Feather" is called "Emily R." If I  
WHEN I get out of here, I'll have to search to see if I can find a missing person named Emily. Something tells me she didn't make it out alive.  
The fact that she seems to have known she wouldn't only makes it worse.  
I wonder who Emily's "Feather" was. Was it Tan? One of the other "disciples" of the Puppeteer? Someone who didn't make it out? I'd ask P. but I'm afraid of his reaction. More specifically, I'm afraid I'll ask at the wrong time and catch him in one of his needling moods. The bastard is always condescending, but some days it's like he literally cannot stop himself from pouring his derision over everything. When he gets like that, he's useless, and I'm not good for much either after dealing with him.  
I'll feel him out, I guess, and if he seems talkative and not too bitchy, I'll drop some hints and pretend I don't want him to figure out what kind of information I'm really after. He likes it when he thinks he's caught me being "secretive."  
...


	66. Day 94, Oct. 17th

Exciting news: there might be a SECRET ROOM in the house. Jim started wondering what that room is in the tower near my bedroom. I'd been wondering if there even IS a room in that tower; sometimes it seems like half the doors in this place lead nowhere. Like that locked trapdoor in the attic that Jenny insisted I try to open. She distracted Puppeteer 2.0 with a cup of tea to give me time to pry at it...like he wouldn't see through that. I got caught and sneered at, OF COURSE, and over something I'm not even interested in--really, who cares if Ryan the Douchebag lives under the attic? I want to stay well away from him. Even if that trapdoor leads OUT of here, if I have to go through him to get out, then no thank you.  
Sorry, I'm just...really out of it, lately. I'm so irritable when I'm not just spacing out. I've caught myself staring at the rafters in my room or out of the cracks between the boards on the windows, just drifting. Sometimes I feel like I've dropped off the face of the planet.  
Maybe Emily's last note got to me more than I thought. It's mid-October--I've been in this house about three months. I haven't let myself wonder if my friends and family are still looking for me. But when I think about Emily's notes and the diaries for too long, I can't help myself. How have we not been found and rescued? It doesn't even seem possible. Act I had fifty people, all locked up in this place for up to a YEAR. Jack wondered where P. hid the bodies, but I wonder how he hides the LIVING. How does he hide US? There are dozens of us, going missing all the time--from all over the place, sure, which makes us harder to track individually--but P. talks about sending messages to lure others to the house. How have none of those made it to the police? The diaries mention bribed officials, but is it really possible that P. is paying them enough to look the other way when so many people are being held against their will? And further--if P. escaped prison and came directly home, then why has no one searched here for him?  
I can't tell if I'm way off the mark and those diaries are bullshit after all...or if there actually are cops out there that stupid and/or corrupt...or if P. is cleverer than I give him credit for, and is covering his tracks too well. Any of those options is distressing and depressing, so I've been trying not to think about it. For the past three months I've been coasting along pretty well, focusing on other things. Denial is like cloud cover, though. Occasionally it gets too patchy to keep you in the dark. And then where are you? Writing messages to no one in a drafty attic room, wondering if you'll even be able to cope in the real world again after this mess is over.  
...


	67. Day 95, Oct. 18th

I don't know whether to laugh or gnash my teeth. We found most of the coins that William Fall had circled in his catalog. There were a couple of hints that Jim assumed were from the Puppeteer, leading us from coin to coin, but P. is keeping mum and it's baffling the hell out of Jim. He seemed at a loss when we finished the collection and there was no comment. To be honest, it worries me too. Is the bastard screwing with us? I wouldn't put it past him to realize we've gotten used to carrying on conversations with him and just stop talking in order to throw us off-balance. But at the same time... P, stop talking? When does he ever?  
Anyway, Jim was at a loss so he just moved on to the next collection: John collected stamps. We've found several of those too and still nothing from P. It's adorable how lost the doc looks when he expects a comment and there is none, but I doubt our maniac does the things he does just to make the Fairwoods make funny faces.  
And here's where the tooth-gnashing comes in: obviously P. is talking to SOMEBODY, because Alice somehow got video of Jim's conversations with his brother and is now convinced that the doc is a spy for the Underground. It's practically civil war within the Followers faction. She'd been watching Jim pretty closely for a few days--enough to restrict his movements so that I've had to do most of the searching for these stamps, so luckily I already had some of them--but then this video turned up and the shit hit the fan. I think Jim might actually leave the Followers over it.  
Which would be a terrible idea, because the reason he joined in the first place still holds true: Alice is crazy and a terrible leader. The Followers need someone compassionate, not someone who will throw them out for dating an Undergrounder. (No, this actually happened--some Follower is evidently seeing a Rat and that's somehow a no-no in Alice's book. Like it's even her business, but at least it gave me something to tease FailJigsaw over. Because if people date in this house, then do people also have sex in this house, even though there are cameras EVERYWHERE? With the number of people crammed into this mansion, odds are there are a few who wouldn't mind giving the Puppeteer a free show. I asked him and he actually seemed kind of flustered, so probably I'm right. Then I asked him if he watches. He was SCANDALIZED. I think there's still a little bit of John Fall in there, however much the diary pages like to allude to that person being dead and gone.)  
...


	68. Day 96, Oct. 19th

A Follower friend turned up that Ouija Board in the attic. Good thing; I was exhausting myself looking for the damned thing. Tan's pleased with it. Some of the other stuff Jenny brought her is just cheap knick-knacks and Tan is a little bit of a snob about her supernatural paraphernalia. But evidently the board is acceptable. I'm not sure how I feel about that, given that I think none of us has enough know-how to make contacting the other side remotely safe. Tan seemed pretty confident when she was delving into the books and masks, but now that we're in Western magic I'm not so sure of her.  
But she's mentioned a ritual to harmonize the pile o'junk we gathered, so I'll go watch her do that and if nothing makes my "I have seen this movie before" senses tingle, I guess I'll go along. I'd love to talk with some of the ghosts here. They might have answers.

Tan would have preferred to work alone, of course, but Jenny is a force to be reckoned with. Even Tan can't refuse her when she REALLY wants something. So Jenny and I were present when Tan performed her ritual. Poor Jenny didn't get to experience much of the excitement, though--got tranced right to sleep by Tan's chanting. The board spelled out "help"--cliche, much?--and Tan said she saw the room differently. I didn't see anything, which is disappointing. But I FELT something. I'm not sure if it was the product of the atmosphere, or if I really did sense a presence. But I could definitely tell something had changed around the time Jenny passed out.  
It didn't feel malevolent, so there's that. I feel a little better.  
...


	69. Day 97, Oct. 20th

Tan did have the last Attic piece. She gave it to Jenny to pass to me--I'm not entirely sure why. Maybe as a thank-you for my help with the books and things? Tan's hard to read.  
So it's cache time again...puppet time again, probably...and time to decide once and for all whether to tell Jim about the puppets. Attic cache is in the support beam on the left; you have to press two triggers on the bookshelves (swapping the two different-sized books that are sitting on those triggers will do the trick) and press certain buttons on the machines next to the surveillance screens.  
Well, wish me luck. This is sure to be painful.

Oh, John. Just...what do you say to that? I don't know what to say to ANY of it.  
I'll tell Jim about the puppets tomorrow, I think. Tonight there's just too much to chew over. The cache had a puppet, all right--"a musketeer; a hero that did not save anyone." But among that depressing mess, there's also a remote control unit. P. says it will help me find "the last secret" if I can figure out where to look. He can't mean the last KEY, because there are ten and I just got the seventh. So what's the last secret?  
I don't know. Emotionally I'm not even capable of working through it right now. This story is upsetting. If I ever meet our Puppeteer, I'm going to hug him before I kill him.  
Maybe I'll hug him to death and save myself a step there.  
I'm going to go lie in bed and think about how stupid I'll feel if this big tragic story turns out to be fake. That way I can work up some anger and not be so depressed. Okay? Okay. Goodnight.  
...


	70. Day 98, Oct. 21st

I'm not sure if I should even count it as the 21st. It's ass o'clock in the morning. Jenny has dragged me out of bed to stalk Ryan Force. Like I want to see that bastard when I'm running on too little sleep.  
Oh, well. It's worth it for the revelations. It looks like Tan's dragon is back in the house. I should have known just from his attitude. Instead I get a three a.m. revelation while eavesdropping on him talking to Tan.  
That's two of three 'disciples' in the house, if anyone's keeping track. Unless the third is here, but those two talked as though he wasn't...at least not yet. I'm not sure I'm happy about P's crazy minions running amok in the house...especially when one of them has super hearing. Jenny and I weren't being loud, whatever Ryan says, but he heard us anyway. Then he told us we might as well make ourselves useful and search out some listening devices for him. Of all the damn nerve!  
I actually had one of those listening devices handy, because I sweep my room daily. (No, I am not TOO paranoid.) So I produced it promptly and politely suggested a place for Ryan to shove it. He didn't seem amused.  
I wasn't amused either when Jenny dragged me to the library to discuss him. I think she actually still thought the bastard is the Puppeteer, despite what Jim and I have told her. I started to mention the diaries and the three "disciples," but Ryan showed up and accused us of stalking him. Seriously. He followed us. And accused us of stalking. Idiot.  
He must have a death wish. Not only was he taking a tone with me that was fixing to get him castrated with a rusty spoon, but he actually THREATENED the Puppeteer into speaking, to prove that Ryan isn't him. Like anyone but Jenny thought that anyway. This guy is too stupid to be P. FAR too stupid.  
I do wonder what it was that he was threatening to "forget" though...

Wow, he really DOES have a death wish. He tracked me down and dragged me out of bed to demand I find more devices for him. He's every bit as arrogant as P. and twice as rude. Unhelpful, too--he kept telling me to tell my "friend" not to do anything stupid. I have no idea which friend he's talking about, since every last one of them is apt to do stupid things. So I started to ask him who he meant, he interrupted me, I crammed a motion sensor into his mouth and kicked him out of my room, and now he's cussing in the hallway while I try to figure out what time it is and if it's worth it to try to sleep more.  
...


	71. Day 99, Oct. 22nd

Brace yourself; this is a long one. (That's what he said.)  
I was pretty useless yesterday due to lack of sleep, and today my motivation is totally nil. Luckily for everyone in the house, my motivation or lack thereof doesn't concern them too much, so I had a VERY full day.  
First thing, that Nat girl catches me at breakfast and complains that Lance the Cowardly Follower stole her solder and she doesn't have time to get it back herself because everything Undergrounders do is of DEADLY IMPORTANCE, guys. TIME IS OF THE ESSENCE. We have to finish Useless Device No. 417 ASAP or the Puppeteer will get bored of our attempts to thwart him, or something!  
Anyway, I found Lance and the kid is either a great liar or he genuinely didn't think that things lying around in the basement belong to anybody. Which is a totally legit thing to think, in my opinion. I nick shit from the basement all the time. Actually there's no telling how many of Jack's VITALLY IMPORTANT COMPONENTS I've just pocketed because they looked handy.  
Gosh, maybe I'm a Follower and didn't know it? Fighting for The Cause with the POWER OF PACKRAT!  
So anyway, I collect stolen item A from terrified Follower B (Jim was really trying not to laugh at how scared this kid is of me, which I find ironic since JIM should be scared of me after all the shit he's put me through) and returned it to Nat who proceeded to piss me off by scoffing about Lance returning her shit when asked. Seriously? You wanted it back. He gave it back. Somehow he's stupid for doing what you wanted? I'll remember that about you, Nat. Just because I'm ultra compliant doesn't mean I won't fuck with you if I take a dislike. As evidenced by the fact that I totally stole about half of your batteries as I left. Who's a chump now, Nat?  
So I'm riding the high of my vindictive thievery when Jenny catches me in the hall. She wants to go spy on Ryan again, and I'm like "you know we're going to get caught like IMMEDIATELY right?" But Jenny just waved off my dead certainty with a "psh, why would he catch us this time like he's done literally every other time before now and what's he gonna do even if he does" which, I have to admit, with that second part she has a point. So off we traipse to the attic, where Jenny finds some sort of code and Ryan demonstrates his freaky-but-kinda-badass powers of Perfectly Timed Arrival. He growled and grumbled like usual, trying to be intimidating but what it really boiled down to was "holy shit, lady, will you please just leave me alone?"  
And as much as I do dearly love Jenny, I sort of agree with him. He's probably unpleasant for a reason, and that reason is probably to keep nosy mothering types like Jenny OUT of his business.  
So Jenny storms off in a huff, dragging me along with her. She said she doesn't even have a word for Ryan, so I suggested a few. My ultimate goal: embarrassing her so much with my potty mouth that she either flees or attempts to wash my mouth out with soap. She did flee, but I suspected she was headed for the soap, so I was about to make myself scarce when Ryan caught me. He not-apologized for being a dick and gave me a...thing...some weird-looking flash drive with a combo lock on it, and told me to give it to Jenny and tell her it's the code she was so interested in. I pointed out that she can't actually open it without the password, and the bastard actually made me laugh. "Isn't that what courteous gestures are supposed to be like? Charming but pointless?"  
I cracked up. I think it surprised him--he accidentally almost cracked a smile.  
Oh yeah. We're gonna get along just fine.  
I handed off the "pointless gesture" to Jenny and was contemplating searching out Jack. I haven't seen Jack in a while--or, well, I've seen him but we haven't really talked. And it's making me kind of anxious because I used to have a pretty good read on what he's up to and now I don't, so if he's doing something stupid I won't be able to do anything about it.  
Cue Jim, and he's looking BAD. Alice kicked him out of the Followers and now the poor stupid sheep that he'd managed to talk out of suicide before are all listening to her again. The doc's desperate now--he thinks that now he has to help the Puppeteer so that we can get out of here and have Alice institutionalized, that way she can't talk anyone else into suicide.  
I'll do my best to help. The suicide rate was pretty bad before--if it gets worse, I don't know how the rest of us will cope.  
Problem is, Jim has no idea how to proceed with helping P. He hasn't been able to get anything out of him, so he's fixated on the stamp collection...which is tricky, because in a house this size stamps are a hard thing to find. I've had hell tracking them down, and even worse, I recognize one of the ones I've yet to find: the Tiflis stamp. As in, the extremely rare stamp that Jack BURNED weeks ago. I don't even know how to break it to Jim.  
Which is why I'm holed up in my room instead of out there searching. I finally unearthed the Pink Mauritius in the attic--probably Ryan thinks I was snooping through his stuff but unless he's been hiding stamps, he can get over himself because not everything is about Ryan.  
If he WAS hiding that stamp...then...well, oops I guess. Sorry, bro. I just stole your stuff.  
See this? All this rambling and crazy? This is stress. Stress and sleep hangover. I WAY overcompensated for yesterday. Ugh.

The Puppeteer speaks. His speech predictably leaves me feeling stupid. I HAVE been checking the puppets I've found in the caches--ever since the weird fragment I found in the Lady puppet, I've been practically obsessive about searching them, but I haven't found much else of interest. The Happy Angel coin in one. A Missing Maiden stamp in another. The Musketeer held nothing that I could find, but I was a little too depressed to search thoroughly, and P. just mentioned it, so I looked again. There was a Tiflis stamp in there! What the hell? Jack must have burned a copy, but why would there even be copies in the house?  
This place makes no sense. The Puppeteer makes no sense. He's been so quiet about these last two collections, like...he...  
Doesn't know whether he wants us to know.  
Oh.  
Wow, it makes so much sense. The diaries are one thing--those could totally be forged or tweaked, right? So we read them, we put them together, but we're cautious about using that info. With the puppets, the coins, the stamps--it backs up that story, makes everything concrete. Makes it real. Maybe P. doesn't want it to be real. I know I wouldn't. And the more we find out, the closer we get--this is a person who hasn't even let his devoted "disciples" find him. That's pretty clear to me; Ryan is going as far as to set up tracking systems with thermal imaging in the house, and it can't get much more obvious who he's looking for, as far as I'm concerned.  
You know, Jim has his answers already if he really thinks about it. He has the stories Poppa Fall wrote about his sons: the elder protecting the younger, stronger than everyone and always saving the day. Then the evidence of a tragedy: both parents and one son dead, the house abandoned. And one survivor. "The hero that saved no one." ...though come to think of it, Jim hasn't heard about that yet. I still haven't told him I have the puppets he's looking for.  
I should tell Jim about it soon. John was supposed to be the strongest, but he failed everyone. Now the Puppeteer has buried that person--the one that failed and lost everything--and it could get ugly if Jim's set on bringing him back.  
You know, I might be relieved if it all turned out to be a sham. This whole thing about my captor turning out to be a person is really bumming me out.  
...


	72. Day 100, Oct. 23rd

Ryan has underestimated our Jenny. Not only did she ruthlessly exploit our knowledge of Ryan's connection with Tan to gain the password for the flashdrive, but she's more than capable of deciphering the code and modifying it to her own purposes. Jenny's told me that she was sickly for years and didn't leave the house, so she learned programming among other things to help combat the boredom.  
She's good at it, too. In no time she has a surveillance system set up for our use. I just hope this doesn't wind up getting me in trouble. (I say ME because come on. Would the Puppeteer ever REALLY give Jenny trouble?)  
In other news, Nat is currently upholding the trend of hot people in this house making me want to punch them in their extremely attractive faces. She's being downright bitchy to that weird Follower kid, Lance--all he did was ask her for a book of his that she'd taken and she went out of her way to be unhelpful. Okay, yeah, Lance rubs me the wrong way too, but DAMN. Lighten up a little. It won't kill you to be a little nicer, right? I nearly asked her if she's even aware that I'm a Follower too. Even though technically I'm not a Follower, since I made that choice in the midst of a screaming, gun-throwing tantrum and also since Jim has been expelled from the Followers and like HELL am I going to be in a faction that Alice is leading. Just NO.  
...Though I might as well, since half of the Undergrounders seem to have taken me seriously. My knowledge of the Rats' movements has dropped to nothing, except for Nat's repeated failures at making successful jammers to disrupt P's feeds.  
...


	73. Day 102, Oct. 25th

An uneventful couple of days. Lance is still terrified of me for no reason I can fully understand, though it's sort of gratifying to have someone actually hesitate to drag me into their problems. So I've been happily screwing with his head while helping him with this and that--mostly finding lost stuff, like with most people. Seems like I'm always handing something to someone...anyway. Ryan eventually caught on that we'd cracked his code and was actually...pleased. Yeah, blew my mind. But he's sort of indirectly confirmed Jenny's theory that it's NOT the Puppeteer Ryan's looking for. Which leaves me with no ideas. Maybe the third disciple?  
So he's taken advantage of our system by "letting" Jenny tap into his cameras, so collectively we cover more of the house. Jenny's convinced she has the right photo to spot the Puppeteer if he comes into range of our cameras...as if he would, unless it was on purpose to screw with us. Personally, I'm just keeping my mouth shut and letting them do what they think will help them.  
...I keep my mouth shut about a lot of things, don't I?  
...


	74. Day 103, Oct. 26th

Okay, I admit it. I'm stalling. I said I'd tell Jim about the puppets and I haven't. It's just that the puppets are MAJOR. They tell a story that I frankly think is too dangerous for Jim to know. P. has reacted badly in the past when Jim asks him about the shit I've found out. I don't want the doc getting himself killed. Sure, it'd be ironic since everyone assumes Jack will be the one to get himself killed. But as much as I'm a big fan of irony...this would be too much for me. I have friends in the house and most of them have survived pretty well, but Jim is the person I rely on the most to just...I don't know. Have his shit together enough to convince me it's possible to not go crazy in here. Jack went crazy in here. Jenny, I'm pretty sure, was crazy to BEGIN with. Jury's still out on Tan.  
Lance has been a pretty good distraction (yes I am changing the subject so I don't continue to stress myself out). Jim roped me into helping file patient records, but by the time I got around to it, Lance had finished the job and was playing tetris, of all things. We had a tournament. Nat and Jenny joined in. There were cookies. It was nice. More like the early days when I could still pretend that  
God DAMN it I'm doing it again! I HATE me when I'm like this. Nothing is SAFE.  
Fuck it. It's time to talk to Jim.

I don't feel like I did the right thing. We're all flying blind here. Silence from the Underground. Silence from the Puppeteer. Tan's practically vanished. Ryan sits in his attic and stares at screens. Jenny's excitement over Halloween coming up just makes the silence from everyone else echo louder. And now Jim says he "needs to reflect" on the puppet collection and its meaning. Why he feels the need to shut me out when I know just as much as he does, I can't even try to understand. I read those diary pages too--hell, I found them to begin with! Why can't he just tell me what he thinks about it all?  
Shit. I'm going to go ask Nat if she's banging Lance. Maybe she'll have a Jack-level temper fit and distract me. Or maybe Jack will be there and I can get on my knees and beg him to TELL me something about what he's up to.  
...


	75. Day 104, Oct. 27th

Finally got a hint of a rumor about what's going on in the Underground...and it frankly pissed me right the fuck off. So the filthy little turncoats are just as bad as those lowlife sheep of Alice's--stabbing their leader in the back for daring to give a shit about his own fucking BROTHER. Every one of them deserves to die here. Every one. What the FUCK good does it do to create wars in the house when we could be OUT OF HERE by now if we'd just work together like sensible grown-ass people?  
Oh wait. There are no sensible grown-ass people in this house. We went Lord of the Flies MONTHS ago. I swear to God I  
Bloody fucking hell what does Ryan want now?  
Update as soon as I find out what this asshole's after--it's not as though he'll tell me up front. They never do.  
...  
...  
...


End file.
